The Lonliness Game
by 0oIvebeenSherlockedOo
Summary: When John Watson is killed Sherlock is left to face his toughest case yet. Lots of twists and turns. My first fanfic, please review!
1. Chapter 1

The Loneliness Game

Sherlock didn't know how it had happened. He had just made a few harmless comments about how hopeless everything except himself was and the next thing he knew, John had left in a hurry. That was at 5 o clock. Sherlock felt a rush of anxiety as he realized it was nearly midnight. 7 hours since he left.

8hrs

The house was totally silent.

9hrs

Only Sherlock was inside, lying on the couch, waiting.

10hrs

Still waiting.

11hrs

A knock on the door. Sherlock rushed to it, relieved. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Lestrade stood bundled in coats on the doorstep. He looked upset and guilty. Sherlock felt a rush of panic. For the first time, he didn't know what was going to happen, what he was about to hear. "What is it?" he asked worriedly, "what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry Sherlock." Lestrade said quietly, "but Dr Watson's body was found in the lake in the local park. He drowned." Sherlock froze. The quiet hum of the city outside seemed to fade into the distance. Was it his fault?

*_Flashback*_

"_I don't believe you sometimes Sherlock. How can you be so heartless?" John stared at Sherlock, anger and sadness filling his eyes. Sherlock shrugged wordlessly. " We-never mind," John left sighing miserably._

_*End Flashback*_

Sherlock wasn't really listening to Lestrade, but suddenly something caught his attention.

"We have reason to believe it was murder."

The world's greatest detectives amazing mind was bought to tatters in an instant.

Chap 2

_Crash. _ The table was overturned


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks for actually reading this! The first few chapters will be short, but they'll get longer soon.**

Sherlock stared down at the body of his best friend on the ground near the lake silently. A small group of worried people gathered behind him, including Mycroft and Lestrade. Mrs Hudson looked tearful and scared. "Why him?" she whispered. Sherlock found himself having to say something he'd never had to before. "I don't know, Mrs Hudson." He told his landlady. Mrs Hudson looked shocked. He and Lestrade looked down at the body.

It was quite strange. John Watson was completely unmarked, apart from a strange crescent shaped bruise round his left wrist. This was what inclined the police to believe it had been murder. "Why though?" Sherlock thought. "Why have my friends, when you could have anyone in the world?" Yet again, he found himself wondering if it had been his fault. Maybe if he hadn't complained, this wouldn't have happened. But the strangest thing was, Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, didn't have any idea who had killed his friend.

"Um… the killer intended to do this. He was armed with something crescent shaped, that he used to drag John, and hold him underwater." He managed. Some of the public started whispering to each other about how clever Sherlock was. "He was pulled to the ground, rather than left on the surface. And… that's all I have."

"Really?" The police looked surprised. " Maybe you should go back home and try and get your head round things. Sherlock nodded wordlessly and left. He couldn't go back to the 221b Baker Street. It felt so empty at the house, without his best friend. It seemed different, like someone had been in and taken away everything he loved.

At that exact moment Sherlock's phone beeped with a text. He knew it would never again be a text from John. Taking out his phone he read it.

**R U ready 2 play the game?**

**JMx**

Sherlock typed a message back.

**What game?**

His reply came back immediately.

**My game. The Loneliness Game. And I don't play by the rules.**

**JM**


	3. Chapter 3

Staring down at the phone in his hand Sherlock Holmes realized he was in trouble. This time Jim Moriarty was prepared to eliminate the few people Sherlock cared about to get to him. For the first time, the detective was scared for himself, Mrs Hudson, Molly and maybe even Mycroft. "Sherlock…" Lestrade trailed off, looking awkward. Sherlock could see his eyes glancing down at John who lay on the ground. He mumbled something about checking on Mrs Hudson (who had gone home) and left in a daze.

The flat at 221B Baker Street was quiet. Everything that had belonged to his best friend was still there, sat waiting for him. He wouldn't be using them again. Then he noticed his John's laptop lying on the couch.

_It hadn't been there before._

Pulling up the screen, Sherlock found an open document. It seemed to be a letter of some sort, though it was only two lines long. As he read it his blood ran cold.

_Sherlock,_

_Don't forget I'm out to get you. If I could kill your little PET so easily, it can't be hard to find you. Just because you're the clever detective, without emotion doesn't mean I can't hurt you. _

_Signed,_

_Guess._

It wasn't fear that the detective felt next. Rather, acknowledgement. Moriarty was ready to play.

The game was afoot.

**Thanks for reading! I know my chapters are short, but I'll update quickly. Thanks to some lovely reviews, I will continue First Step Forward as soon as I decide on a good theory to use for Sherlock's survival… Anyway, please review, and constructive criticism is appreciated!**


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